The Worst Thing
by Flyaway Dove
Summary: Draco was sure there could not be anything worse than sexual frustration. Hermione was sure there could not be anything worse than heartbreak. The story of how they assist one another in relieving their worst feelings. One shot.


**The Worst Thing**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Draco was sure there was nothing worse than sexual frustration.

He hadn't had any type of sexual contact in three months, and it was killing him. This was the longest dry spell he'd had in three years. This was just unacceptable. He didn't even need sex to release this frustration, to be honest, snogging would suffice. He just needed the feeling of pinning a girl up against the wall and crushing his lips to hers.

Just thinking about it was pissing him off. He gritted his teeth, trying to pay attention to the invoices he had to complete. He could not let this go on much longer. Sexual contact was such a good way to release stress and it was the reason he did so well on his work. Lately, it had been more difficult to concentrate because his mind had been more occupied with relaying his most recent sexual encounters to sustain him.

It was true, if he went up to a girl at a club or at a bar and bought her a drink, he was never turned down. But Draco Malfoy was never one to make the first move. He liked it more when the women came to him. When they flocked around him and he didn't have to do any work. Personally, he was not a fan of the chase. He preferred the women throwing themselves at his feet, their clothes practically off before they reached his flat. He decided he may have to make an exception this time, however, because, (although he would never admit it), he was getting desperate. His lust really needed to be sated.

Pornography was never really something he indulged in either. He preferred the actual, physical presence of a woman as opposed to one on the telly. Usually, he never had any problems with this. For some reason, lately, women were just not throwing themselves at him as they typically did. He did not know what it was. Was he losing his charm? He didn't see how this could be true. He still carried himself the same way, he thought. He showed no less confidence in his stride. His hair was still as attractive as ever. His eyes could still pierce a woman's soul. His arrogance still knew no bounds. And yet, he did not seem to be as attractive as he once was. The women at work did not even seem to steal secretive, flirtatious glances at him anymore. Something was the matter with him. He needed to find out what this _something_ was and fix it, fast. Otherwise, he thought he might explode with the sexual frustration. He needed a woman to fix him. Preferably one with curves and long hair, but since he was nearing desperation at the moment, _anything_ would do.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Hermione was sure there was nothing worse than heartbreak.

She wanted, right now, to be lying in the arms of Jeffery Walsh after a long day at work. Today, she should have returned to her flat, made dinner, invited him over, and spent the evening with him. He should have rubbed her shoulders because it had been a particularly hard day. They then should have made their way to her bedroom. They shouldn't have done anything too sexual, merely kissed and talked and eventually fall asleep.

But she was not.

She loved being in his arms; they fit so well together. Usually, he hugged her to him, her back molding perfectly into his chest. Whenever they were talking and she grew tired, he would kiss the spot between her shoulder and her neck. That always proved to wake her up. Those nights, she always slept without her top on. He loved to cup her breasts as he slept.

He sent her flowers when he knew she was down. He talked to her practically nonstop. He phoned her during his lunch breaks at work. His kisses made her melt. His honesty flabbergasted and intrigued her. Any question she asked about his life, his past, he answered absolutely truthfully. She did the same. Their level of communication astounded her, and she loved it. It was part of what made their relationship so intense.

In retrospect, she shouldn't have gotten so attached to him. Jeff had told her at the start of his interest in her that it may not lead to dating because he had to move in a few months and he wasn't sure where he was going to end up. For this reason, they technically were not dating. Still, Hermione had fallen into his trap. He was just so charming and honest and _perfect_. He was the first guy that Hermione could see herself marrying.

The dream had lasted for a wonderful three months. And then, Jeff realized that he was 25 and she was 19 and she wasn't looking to get married and have kids anytime soon, whereas that was his new goal. Thus, Hermione was dumped, even though they weren't technically dating. Jeffery Walsh took her heart, ripped it from her chest, and ripped it to shreds. And he didn't give a damn. After all of the long conversations, all of the late nights, all of the sweet gestures…he dropped her.

And so Hermione was NOT lying in the arms of Jeffery Walsh right now. Instead, for the tenth night in a row, she was hugging her pillow tightly to her and crying relentlessly into it. She felt used. She felt angry. She felt like crawling on her hands and knees back to Jeff and begging for him to take her back. In other words, she felt like shite. Sure, it had only been three months, but it had been the most intense three months of her life. She had never felt this terrible in her entire life, and she knew that she needed to do something about it. She needed something, _anything_, to take her mind off of his perfect arms and sexy stubble.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Thursday night was the night when Draco and some of his mates went out. Thursday was a popular night for university students to frequent clubs, so they thought this night was the best night to pull some arse. Although Draco's success had been faltering lately, he trekked his way to Zoo Bar with Blaise and some of his co-workers. True, many of the women here were Muggles, but Draco did not discriminate in his nameless women. Plus, Muggle university students were the most willing to go home with random, attractive men.

He and his mates took seats at the bar and Draco ordered the first round of drinks. As he sipped his beer he subtly scanned the room for promising women. "See anything?" Blaise asked, joining him in looking.

Draco spotted a promising looking girl on the dance floor. She looked like she had a few drinks in her, which was always a good sign. Her inhibitions were apparently gone, as she was allowing her girlfriend to lead her in a dance. Draco had never been an enormous fan of the heavy-beated dance music of clubs, but women really seemed to like to dance to it with their girlfriends, of which he _was_ a fan. He was currently eyeing the scantily-clad woman and debating whether or not to make the first move. He did not necessarily want to lower himself to just going up behind her and s tart dancing with her, as many of the blokes did. He felt that that was extremely desperate and lacked all types of class. And Draco Malfoy was _not_ one to look desperate. As a compromise between desperation and his failed aloof attempt, he decided to drag Blaise to the edge of the dance floor, near the woman, where they talked and tapped their feet to the beat as they nursed their drinks. Draco attempted to catch the girl's eye, but was having difficulty succeeding. What was wrong with him these days?

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Hermione was drunk. As she danced with Ginny, she kept tripping over her feet and falling into her friend. But Ginny could deal with it, Hermione had decided, because she was the one that had dragged Hermione forcibly from the house and out to this dratted club. Hermione was not one to frequent clubs, although they were enjoyable on occasion. Usually, though, Hermione had to be quite intoxicated to have a good time. Hence the reason she was enjoying her time immensely at the moment. She had not even paid attention to the clothes Ginny had dressed her in, she just knew she felt air on more of her skin than with which she was comfortable. That was why alcohol was such an amazing thing sometimes; it completely took away her inhibitions and allowed her to dance unrestrained. She did not care about who was watching. Ginny had brought her out as a method to get over Jeff, and so far the alcohol was assisting in this goal. Ginny's next goal was to get Hermione to meet a boy.

As they were dancing, Ginny pulled Hermione closer to her and yelled in her ear over the music, "Hermione! That man is looking at you, and he's quite attractive! You should go over to him!"

In these situations, Hermione was usually hesitant. However, she decided that using the lips of others to get over the arsehole that was her ex-boyfriend (yes, she knew they weren't technically dating, but she felt like they had been) was not such a bad idea. The man whom Ginny was nodding towards was standing on the outskirts of the dance floor. Suddenly, all that was on Hermione's mind was kissing this man. And so, that was what she did in her lovely drunken state. She marched her way purposely over to him, not even taking time to assess what he looked like, and pushed her lips onto his.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Draco realized a second before the lips of the girl he had been watching on the dance floor landed upon his that he was about to kiss a very intoxicated Hermione Granger. As her lips graced his mouth, he decided that he would let this occur. At the very least, she could break his dry spell and give him something to blackmail her with. Since he had been admiring her, he had already accepted the fact that she had a fairly attractive body, even though she _was_ a know-it-all Mudblood. He just hoped she was a good snog.

She was proving to be just that, as her tongue caressed his and her arms were casually thrown around his shoulders, her body pressed up against his. She tasted of vodka. She felt surprisingly small in his arms, which were now grasping her hips. Who knew that Hermione Granger would feel so sexy against his body? The fact that she was completely wrecked added to the allure. Yes, she would make the perfect end to his dry spell. He broke the kiss and put his mouth to her ear. "My place or yours, Granger?"

She pulled away from him and looked, bewildered, at his face. She seemed to sober instantly. "Malfoy." There was no question in her voice.

"The one and only," he smirked.

She was silent for a second. Then, "You're a good snog."

"I am aware."

"Look, Malfoy, let me lay this out for you," she said, authority in her voice. "I need to get over my fucking ex boyfriend, and your bed can help me do it."

Draco was surprised that Granger was being so blunt. Still, he couldn't complain. "Granger, I'm having a dry spell. You're going to help me get over it. Let's go."

Granger left him to tell her friend where she was going and then joined him on his walk out of the club. They had both laid their cards on the table, and Draco was glad. Sometimes he ended up with birds that wanted to cuddle after sex and cook him breakfast on the morning after. Granger would just be a fuck. He wondered how many people she had slept with.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Instead of focusing on the fact that she was following Draco Malfoy back to his flat, Hermione was trying to concentrate on putting one stiletto-clad foot in front of the other in some semblance of a straight line. Eight shots of vodka had a way of making it difficult to walk. They also made it difficult to make good decisions, as Hermione was now demonstrating as she trailed Malfoy to a dark alley behind the bar. She assumed that he was going to Apparate from here, out of the sight of Muggles. Oh shit…Apparation… "Malfoy, there is no fucking way I can Apparate," she told him. She was surprised at how coherent she was when she was this plastered. The drunken trait that countered this was her use of profanities, however, which was not attractive _at all_.

He chuckled. It was a deep sound, and she realized she had never heard such a good-natured sound from him before. Her lips were still buzzing from the snog they shared. Of course Ginny had to shove her towards Draco Malfoy, of all people in the world. What was he doing in a Muggle club anyhow?

"Don't worry, Granger, we'll side along Apparate." And, with those words, he took hold of her and pressed her body to his. Hermione got the terrible sensation of being sucked through a tube, made worse in her drunken state, and then she was in a bedroom. She thought that this would be the perfect first step to getting over Jeff. As it was well known, she and Malfoy never _did_ get along splendidly. However, they had always been there to challenge one another, and tonight would be no different. Their cards were laid upon the table, they each knew what the other was about, and they would fulfill the needs of one another. She found it slightly amusing that Draco Malfoy was having a dry spell and he was employing a Muggle born to end it.

He took no time in stripping her of her clothes. In a more sober mindset, she would have been acutely aware of her nakedness in front of her old enemy. However, she was now more aware of the kisses he was planting roughly on her body. She was having difficulties with the buttons on his shirt. Her brow was furrowed in concentration with the effort in sliding the round, plastic button through its hole. Draco was clearly amused by her exertions and took over in removing his shirt. He made short work of the rest of his clothing.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

It was interesting, the after-sex dynamic with Hermione Granger. She did not seem to be in any hurry to put her clothes back on, and yet she was not of the cuddling sort. She sort of just sat there, casually, watching as he collected his boxers and slid them on again. She had not been a bad shag, and he was kind of surprised. It was also impressive because she was quite wasted, and things generally did not go as well when one is so drunk. She actually seemed to have had quite a bit of practice with sex. And she had absolutely assisted in ending his dry spell. He felt like the old Draco Malfoy again; able to seduce women with a single glance.

"Do you do this all the time?" Granger asked suddenly. "Before your dry spell, I mean." The bed sheet was pooled at her waist. She was making absolutely no effort to cover herself, and Draco was not complaining. Many of the girls that had shared his bed with were very eager to gather their clothes, in the dark, following sex. Some of them did not even allow him to get them completely naked in the first place. Hermione seemed to be completely comfortable with her body, which was a nice change. Confidence was always attractive. It was either that, or she was still too drunk for reality to sink into her brain.

"Yes, I do this all the time," he replied, choosing to ignore her second comment.

"Why?" she wondered.

"I'm not looking for a serious girlfriend; it's not like I want to get married right now. So why not just have fun?"

Hermione let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark. "That's the way to be," she said. "Fuck serious relationships. Fuck _marriage_. Voldemort's gone; this is the time for _fun_."

This clearly had something to do with her ex. Draco didn't _care_, but he was curious. "I take it Weaselbee wanted to get married and you turned him down." He was leaning up against one of the bedposts, admiring her half-naked form.

"No," she said maliciously. "Ron and I were over a long time ago. My most recent relationship ended because he was looking for someone to get married to, and I'm too young." She sounded extremely angry.

"Hence the reason you used me for my body," he smirked.

"Precisely."

"Did it work?" he asked.

She looked surprised at the question. "It was a good first step," she replied after a moment. "He had a power over me because he was the last person I slept with. Now, he doesn't have that power. It's a good feeling."

"Glad to be of assistance, I suppose," Draco mused. It did not seem as if Grange was going to give him leverage to use this as blackmail.

"And was I of assistance to you?" she inquired.

He smirked. "You broke my dry spell, didn't you?"

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Hermione knew she should probably be disgusted by the fact that she had just allowed Draco Malfoy to explore her most intimately, but she wasn't. In fact, she was right pleased. And he did not seem to be too disappointed either. She was still confused, however, as to why he was in a Muggle club. "I would have expected to find you in a Wizarding club."

"I find that I am unknown in Muggle clubs, and therefore it is easier to attract girls. Also, Muggle university girls like to…explore their new freedoms." The infamous Malfoy smirk crept across his face once more.

"But you have to use condoms with them, don't you?" she said. She blamed her boldness on the alcohol. In all honesty, she was just curious.

He looked taken aback by the question. She seemed to be getting that reaction out of him quite a bit tonight. "I will admit, it is nice to have magic when it comes to contraception. Sex _is_ considerably better without condoms. However, it is a sacrifice one sometimes must make for the sake of pulling girls. Despite the fact that I use a contraceptive charm on myself anyhow, condoms usually make them feel safer."

"Do any of them ever stay?"

"Why so many questions, Granger?" he said, although he did not sound angry.

"I'm just curious," Hermione replied in a soft voice. She was slightly embarrassed, and looked down at her lap. For some reason, she felt comfortable around Malfoy. After the war, it just seemed as if petty rivalries did not matter anymore.

"Most of them spend the night. A few of them have stayed for breakfast. One of them has led to a date. The ones I can actually have good conversation with catch my attention."

"You've changed," she observed. "It's nice."

"Yes, I never imagined we would have a civil conversation after a surprisingly good shag."

"It's nice," she repeated.

He paused. Then, "Ready for another go?"


End file.
